Black Angel
by Yoru no Kage
Summary: Shax failed. Prue is alive, Piper married Leo. Leo lost most of his powers. Phoebe is still unemployed. What else is new? A dark stranger shows up, stats dating Phoebe. Daemons start flooding in. Chapter one is actually the prolouge. I suck at summeries.
1. Why?

As the Haliwell sisters reached for the Book of Shadows the pages fluttered, as if in a strong wind. Apprehensively Prue reached for the page to read. Piper grabbed her shoulder and Phoebe huddled up behind them. Prue began to read, her voice wavering with each word. "Sister, sisters, the power of three, One has been found that is stronger than thee, dark this man is; shadowed by pain, allied he is with Aramane." Piper closed the book with a snap sending dust cascading down onto the three witches. "Well ladies, we are well and truly, royally screwed!" Phoebe exclaimed with her usual subtly

Just then, the wall behind them exploded. The sisters dove for cover as one with Piper freezing the explosion and Prue projecting into it to discover which daemon wanted them this time. A solid hand stopped her projection before it got and further than the debris cloud. "That was a mistake.' A voice hissed in her ear. Phoebe appeared behind him, having levitated over during the chaos. She snapped out a roundhouse kick at the unseen attacker. She found her foot caught by what felt like a solid metal vice.

The assailant sent both sisters flying back across the room and into their previously positions. Phoebe slammed against a wall and Prue returned to her body with the usual gasp and shudder. Phoebe rose to her feet, shakily, with blood running down her forehead. She clenched her fist and lunged back into the still frozen debris cloud only to come sailing back out to land on Piper, thereby unfreezing the wooden detritus and sending it cascading over the attic.

While her sisters attempted to extricate themselves from each other Prue tried to throw the several wooden beams lying on the floor at the man that stood before her. Then she stopped herself. There he stood; his black trench coat riddled with holes and his shirt was torn and shredded. Black blood ran freely down his face and body dripping down into sticky pools in the floor. Piper finally fought her way free of Phoebe's tangled limbs and to her feet. She gasped and instinctively tried to freeze him, as expected it didn't work so she picked up a vase and hurled it at him.

With his typical preternatural speed the man sidestepped the missile and returned the favor. A long barreled black gun flashed into his hand, discharging one round. To Prue it seemed to happen in slow motion, Piper jerked back, a small round hole in her chest, and fell. Her white sweater stained red and blood spreading in a pool around her. Prue screamed and launched several wooden beams at him. He sidestepped each one before turning the gun on Prue, again a clean shot to the chest. Phoebe sat as silent witness to this before throwing herself at the man in the trench coat her fists clenched with helpless rage. His hand flicked out to snag her around the throat and lift her off the ground. Phoebe stared into his cold blue eyes, her own brown ones filled with tears of betrayal. His cold gaze softened and seemed almost apologetic. His breath warmed her ear as he whispered, "Phoebe, I'm sorry!" then he rested the barrel of the gun on her sternum and pulled the trigger. Phoebe felt the impact of the shot and slipped into the blackness of oblivion but before surrendering to the darkness she whispered a single word, "Why?"


	2. Leo, Darklighters, and a Mazarati

Three Days Earlier

It was late, about 3:00a.m, he had been watching her for hours, and hiding in a tree thirty feet above ground level was not the most comfortable position in any of the many worlds he had been through. He was just about to drop from the low branch when his cell-phone started buzzing. Cursing silently he removed the bulky phone from the side pocket on his black cargo pants and flipped it open. "What?" he hissed into the receiver. After a few seconds of listening he snapped the phone shut. Slipping down from the tree he dropped thirty feet and landed on his feet unharmed. He walked over to his car, glanced back at the rose colored manor, and drove away.

"You did WHAT?" Prue thundered. Piper stopped as she walked into the room as though Prue's exclamation was a solid wall. Phoebe, as usual was on the receiving end of Prue's wrath. The scene was a typical breakfast at the Haliwell house. Phoebe had used the money from her sister's jobs to further her own personal ends. In this particular case she had purchased a rather expensive Mazarati that was parked out in the driveway next to Prue's Jeep. Prue's ratty old Jeep. Phoebe, as she usually did, stood there while Prue vented her frustration onto her youngest sister. Piper rushed into the room just in time to hear he news, and stop her older sister from lunging across the table and strangling Phoebe. "Wait, wait, wait. Prue don't kill Phoebe, we don't have the money for a funeral." Phoebe made a wry face and replied, "Thanks sis." Piper shrugged, sarcasm was a regular event at the Halliwel house. "Now, Prue, Phoebe, chill. What did Phoebe do this time?"

Phoebe huffed and threw her hands up in the air. "Y'know, 'Gang Up On Phoebe Day' is a once a year thing people!" she shouted. Phoebe grimaced while Prue explained the situation. Piper swept around her amusement quickly changing to outrage. Phoebe braced herself for the inevitable outburst which manifested itself in the form of a "You did WHAT?" Prue shook her head and corrected Piper, "I already covered that, why don't you skip down to the chasing her around the house while trying to get those keys away from her part, it's about time somebody else did that." Phoebe took off running shouting to Piper, "Prue gives me a head start!" Piper growled and sprinted off after her erstwhile sister replying, "I'm not Prue! I had plans for that money Phoebe!"

This continued for ten minutes until a knock on the door silenced the chaos. Prue opened the door with her usual dramatic flair, eyes flashing at whoever dared disturb the sanctity of her Sunday morning. That person in particular was Piper's husband, one Leo Wyatt, former Whitelighter. "What's going on in here and who's car is that in the driveway?" the former protector asked, upon seeing Phoebe attempting to fend off Piper by hovering above her. Prue grimaced but before she could explain Leo nodded and affirmed, "Ah just a typical Halliwell morning." Prue nodded and laughed quietly at the antics of her younger sisters. Phoebe floated back to earth clutching the keys to her chest while Piper swept Prue aside and kissed Leo on the mouth before drawing back and asking, "Watcha doin' here? I thought you were in Chicago." Leo frowned before asking, "The job fell though. Besides why I can't spend the day with my wife on her day off?" Piper chuckled before ducking back into a kiss. "You're always welcome to, God knows I get few enough as it is." she said.

Prue and Phoebe smiled knowingly before giving simultaneous jaunty waves. They ducked out of the room and shut the door behind them. "Well," Phoebe said. "Since Piper's obviously busy tonight…"

"Heard that," Piper shouted from the next room. Phoebe winced and continued in a lower voice. "Why don't you and I hit P3 tonight? The Verve is playing there and I'd love to see them." Prue grinned and replied, "You don't have very good luck with them; remember what happened last time?" Phoebe frowned in confusion. Prue looked at her incredulously before saying, "Uh hello? My boss tried to kill me?" That only deepened Phoebe's confusion, which she express by muttering, "Which time was that?" Prue rolled her eyes and replied, "Exactly." Phoebe brightened back up and asked, "So how 'bout it?" Prue shrugged and sighed, "Sure, why not?" Phoebe hugged her and said, "Oh c'mon Prue spending time with your sisters isn't the most horrible thing in the world."

P3's dimly light room suited him just fine. He sat in back, the darkened booth hiding his features save for the scar that ran down the side of his face from the outside of his left eye across his mouth to his chin. His hands were adorned with rings and his left ear was the victim of two silver hoops. He wore a black suit with a white shirt and black tie. A silver chain twinkled around his neck reflecting argent light across his face highlighting his scar. He raised his jeweled hand and snapped. A waitress glanced over and approached the table.

"What can I do for you?" asked the blond woman. The man in the suit looked over at the table he'd been observing. "Would send that young woman over there a glass of Dom Peringnon for me please? Thanks." He flashed his pearly teeth in a brief grin. The more than slightly dazeled waitress nodded and walked away. The man rested his chin in his palm and blinked slowly. His blue eyes flickered over the young brunette before nodding and raising himself from his seat and stalking around the club. He ended up directly behind the woman's table before the drink arrived.

Phoebe and Prue sat for a while but soon they both grew bored and Prue suggested they leave. Then footsteps approached from behind and a waitress leaned over Phoebe's shoulder with a glass of champagne. "A gentleman said you should have this.," she said. Both Phoebe and Prue raised their eyebrows in surprise. "What gentleman and which one of us?" Phoebe asked, looking around. "He didn't say," the waitress replied. A tall man in a black suit raised his head and caught Phoebe's brown eyes with his silver-blue ones. Prue followed Phoebe's stunned gaze over to the dark man in the corner. Phoebe glanced back at Prue and the two locked gazes. "Dibs!" Phoebe said brightly. She stood up and brushed down her black dress and sashayed over to the mysterious figure.

As she approached him his eyes flickered over her figure quickly before retuning to her face. Phoebe walked determinedly up to him held out her hand and announced, "Hi I'm Phoebe, you sent me a drink." The tall man took her hand and raised it to his lips. If this had been any other man being this forward with her she would have rejected them on the spot but in this instance it felt different. He was being more respectful than suave it seemed. "So I did," he replied. His voice was quiet and gravelly with a hint of New York accent. He flashed a grin at her revealing diamond white incisors long enough to be considered fangs. Phoebe gasped at the sight and fell back a little bit making sure that Prue was watching in case this tall, dark, and undeniably attractive stranger turned out to be daemonic.

"I'm sorry, I forget about the way my deformity causes people to react. I'm Mikhail," he replied. Phoebe grinned and laughed. "Deformity? I think it makes you look cute," she replied honestly. His pale face colored slightly and he laughed. "I sent you the drink to get your attention, I would feel awkward approaching a stranger. I was hoping you would consider going out some time?" Phoebe almost laughed, he phrased the last sentence as a question and she found that adorable. "I'll think about it," she said flirtatiously She wrote down her cell phone on the nearest bar napkin before kissing it and marking it with her lipstick.

Rejoining Prue, Phoebe hooked her arm through her sister's. "Pardon me ladies?" The voice behind them made them jump. It was Phoebe's admirer Mikhail. He pulled back and held up his hands. "My apologies, I forget my own abilities sometimes I'm very good at avoiding detection." Phoebe laughed and introduced her quiet companion, "Prue this is Mikhail. Mikhail, Prue." Mikhail held out his hand to shake and Prue, hesitantly, accepted it. "The city's dangerous this time of night. I was wondering if you'd allow me to walk you home. Just to be safe," he offered. Phoebe shot a triumphant glance at Prue before replying, "Sure that's sweet of you."

P3 sits about ten blocks from Halliwell manor and in that distance more than a few alleys had to be crossed. During the daylight hours these alleyways were dangerous enough but at night they could be positively deadly. Thieves and muggers lurked in every corner and shadow. Mikhail examined every one with an experienced eye, daring any of them to step out. None of them did, self-preservation overruling greed. Normally Phoebe and Prue would have called a taxi but with Mikhail even the ever cautious Prue felt as safe as it was possible for a witch to feel. His presence, though not terribly imposing, was of one at home in the dark.

Less than a block from the Halliwell's house they were finally confronted. Four youths stepped from the shadow of a dumpster and pointed switchblades at the trio. The oldest one, a teen of maybe eighteen stepped forward and pointed his knife at Phoebe. "You, c'mere, now," The spotted youth snarled. Mikhail stalked up behind him and planted a rough hand on his shoulder. "Hellava way to pick up chicks man," He hissed in the kid's ear. The kid swung a right hook but Mikhail simply caught the blow and held up his free hand, clenched into a fist. He tried again, this time with his knife. Mikhail exploded into a blur of motion. Catching the knife hand, he kicked the youth in the back of the knees and floored him with an uppercut.

The other three charged, howling threats. That was about as far as they got. Mikhail kicked the legs out from under one, clotheslined another and finished off by catching the last one's arm with his own, ripping it from it's socket before shattering the kid's nose with his fist. After the last one had fallen Mikhail shook the blood off of his fist and turned to the two stunned witches. "That's why I wanted to walk you home," he quipped. Prue just nodded, too impressed to say anything. Phoebe on the other hand clamped herself onto Mikhail's arm and rested her head on his shoulder. Then pulled back quickly when she felt something wet and sticky touch her arm. She'd been through her share of scraps so she recognized blood when she felt it.

"You're bleeding," she blurted. Mikhail looked down at his sleeve and the bloody tear there. "So I am, dammit this was my favorite suit too," he snapped. Phoebe's eyes went wide with alarm and she hastily replied, "Who cares about the suit, what about your arm?" Mikhail snorted derisively and removed his jacket to expose a sleeve crimson with blood. A shallow gash ran along his upper arm over his tri and biceps, bleeding profusely. Prue stepped in to take a look, "You've lost allot of blood, we should bandage this. We've got medical supplies at our house. Let's get you there." Mikhail snorted again but said, "Thank you for the offer. Let's go. This was an expensive shirt I'd prefer not to bleed all over it."

Piper's evening almost perfect. Leo had brought roses, they'd enjoyed a candlelight dinner, and now they were curled up together on the couch in front of a roaring fire just enjoying each other's company. Her evening was almost perfect…until the front door opened and sounds of scuffling shattered her quiet night. Leo extended a hand protectively in front of her. She sighed and pushed the offending limb aside reminding Leo, without words, that she should be the one protecting him. He rolled his eyes but remained where he was. Cautiously easing the door open she held her hands in her freezing position ready for trouble. What she got was quite an interesting sight. Phoebe hanging on the arm of a man who could only be described as tall, dark, and gorgeous while Prue rushed back into the room with peroxide for a long slice on his upper arm. Piper walked into the room hesitantly before making up her mind and freezing the man.

"Piper, what are you doing," Prue exclaimed. Piper looked over the man before asking, "Who is he Phoebe, you know we don't take in strays?" Phoebe stuck her tongue out at Piper while Prue replied, "He's Phoebe's latest um thing, though I must say he certainly has merit. He defended us from four thugs on our way home. That's how he got this cut." Piper tilted her head and said, "Mmm, okay." As she slipped back into the room from which she had emerged to unfreeze the action Phoebe said under her breath, "I assume that under-reaction means we'll talk later." She turned to Mikhail and said "We're going to.. um .. to need you to … um…" Her voice trailed off and she could feel her cheeks coloring. "We're going to need you to remove your shirt," Prue said in her businesslike manner. "Yeah," Phoebe added. Mikhail nodded and unbuttoned the now ruined shirt.

As it fell to the floor Phoebe's jaw followed. Every inch of the man's arms were covered in swirling black tattoos that continued along his back and up to his neck.

Phoebe picked her jaw up off the floor long enough to say, "Wow." before going back to staring. Prue smacked her sister on the arm and called, "Hello San Francisco to Phoebe, come in Phoebe!" Phoebe's eyes unglazed and she shot a playful glare at Prue before gently taking Mikhail's arm and dabbing a cotton swab soaked in peroxide along the gash. He hissed quietly as the peroxide sizzled and bubbled, stinging the wound. Phoebe stopped and looked at him with concern, the cut was much deeper that it first appeared. Mikhail waved his hand and beckoned for her to continue. So intent she was on her work that her hand slipped and broke away some of the scab that had formed sending trails of blood sliding down Mikhail's arm and dripping to the floor.

Coincidently Piper, hater of blood, reentered the room at that moment. As soon as she noticed the blood dripping onto the white tile, staining it crimson, she moaned quietly and sprinted over to the cabinet. Grabbing four towels she started sopping up the blood all over the floor. Mikhail furrowed his brow. "How many of you are there?" he asked. "Just one more," Leo said coldly. Mikhail spun around to confront the former Whitelighter. Instead he received Leo's fist across his jaw. Prue gasped, Piper jumped, and Phoebe squealed. Mikhail regained his footing as Leo closed with another punch but Mikhail caught this one. He bent Leo's fist back, forcing the man to his knees. Leo tried to fight back but all he did was splash some of Mikhail's blood across his face. Mikhail pulled his free hand back for a punch but a gasp from Piper caused him to stop and glance her way. Her eyes glistened with fear and seemed to be pleading with him to release Leo.

He nodded and sent Leo down onto his back with a last push before relinquishing his hold on the Whitelighters' fist. He sat back down at the table and held up his hands. He opened his mouth to apologize and Piper promptly froze him. Phoebe turned on Leo, "What the hell are you doing? Do you even know him?" Leo's eyes flashed and he snapped, "I know what he is! Phoebe he's a Darklighter!" The sisters gasped and Phoebe shook her head saying, "No, that's not possible. Darklighters are destined to hunt and kill Whitelighters. If he is why did he let you go when Piper looked at him? Why didn't he kill you then and there?" Leo stopped and nodded, "Fine, maybe I overreacted but he senses like a Darklighter." Prue snorted, "Overreacted? You're learning from Piper, and that was a bit more than an overreaction, you rung his bell pretty good."

Piper reluctantly unfroze him and he finished saying, "I apologize, sometimes I act without thinking." Leo smacked him on his wounded shoulder and replied, No hard feelings? You looked like someone I knew that's all." Mikhail laughed quietly and said, "No hard feelings. I'm Mikhail." He held out his hand to shake and Leo took it. "I'm Leo." Mikhail pushed himself up and finished bandaging his arm. I'd better be going before someone else takes a swing at me," he said upon seeing the look on Piper's face. That glare followed him out the door. He turned to look back before he left and Phoebe ran up to him. "How's dinner on Friday sound? 6:00 sound good?" she asked. Mikhail grinned, flashing his fang-like teeth. "Sounds good Phoebe. How 'bout at Quake?" Phoebe shook her head "Oh no, Piper used to work at Quake. She's really sensitive about that. Piper is the one glaring daggers at you by the way. How about P3?" Mikhail nodded. Phoebe leaned up and kissed him on the lips quickly. Mikhail pulled her in for a hug and whispered in he rear, "Tell Leo I'm not a Darklighter." Before a stunned Phoebe could respond he was out the door.

"Well," Piper said. "I like him." Phoebe walked over to the others in a daze. She looked up at Leo and said, "We have a serious problem!"


	3. The Prophecy

6:00 came much too quickly for poor Phoebe. She spent all day agonizing over what to wear. Was this too flashy, did this show too much leg, was this too severe? Eventually she decided on a long, elegant black dress with the mid-riff cut out. A sinuous silver dragon wound it's way around her arm resting it's jeweled head on her hand. A pair of silver angel's wings dangled from her ears and a cross-shaped athame pendant hung from her neck. "Ooh, Phoebe going for the Wicca look much?" Prue noted as the flashy witch walked down the stairs. Piper spun from the chicken she was sautéing and froze. "Hanh," she groaned, eyes wide with alarm. "What are you doing, you scream, well, I dunno witch!" Phoebe rolled her eyes and made a break for the door only to have it slam in her face as Prue exercised her telekinesis to corral her youngest sister.

Phoebe sighed and conceded defeat. She pulled an abrupt about-face to confront her older tormenters. Prue's face expressed her amusement at Phoebe's witchy appearance. "Are you planning on casting a love spell on him?" she teased. Phoebe blew an errant strand of honey-colored hair from her face before replying, "Come on I'm not that desperate, besides you saw how he dressed. Tell that didn't remind you of Lestat at least a little bit."

"Who?" Prue and Piper asked in unison, their faces betraying their confusion. Phoebe rolled her eyes, "The Vampire Lestat, hello ever heard of Ann Rice?" Piper shook her head, and replied, "No Phoebe, only you were in to that creepy stuff." The witch in question sighed and stuck out her tongue before dashing for the door. She almost made it before Prue slammed it in her face again. Phoebe spun around to confront her sister again. Prue gazed at her in incredulity. "So you're trying to out-weird him?" she quipped trying with all her will power not to burst out laughing. Phoebe adopted a more defensive posture. "Yeah," she muttered, looking for all the world like a little girl caught with her hand in the cookie jar. Piper smacked her on the arm and growled, "You go girl!" All three sisters laughed.

Phoebe reached apprehensively for the door, looking at Prue expectantly. Prue made a motion for the door and Phoebe leapt backwards, crashing into Piper. The door remained fixed, as Prue had not used her power. Phoebe wrenched the door open before slipping into the Mazarati and screeching away with a jaunty wave.

She arrived at P3 at 6:01. Jumping out of the car she snuck over to the service door to avoid paying the entrance fee and wove her way through the staff. The transition from kitchen to club was always a bit of a shocker going from clean, white, sterile walls to dark, crowded, and filthy. A table in the center of the flashing room sat empty. Phoebe quickly claimed it for herself. In the dark she felt like she blended in, one with the shadows. It made her feel powerful, in control, the hunter for once instead of the hunted. Then she remembered the Woogy and immediately shut those thoughts down. She settled down to wait for her date to arrive. After ten minutes she grew worried, Mikhail didn't seem like to type to stand a girl up but you could never tell.

She was about to leave when the same waitress that had delivered her drink the night before appeared at her elbow bearing a note. All the scrap of paper said was: Watch the stage 6:15, M. She frowned and looked around expecting Mikhail to be watching her from a dark corner. Glancing at the clock hidden behind the bar she noted that it was 6:13. Two more minutes couldn't hurt she decided and settled back down. After a minute the D.J. stepped up on stage and flipped the microphone into his hand with a squeal of feedback that caused the club-goers to flinch. "I am very excited about our special guest tonight. Ladies and gentle-men may I present to you the one band in the world that sounds good covering Ozzie: Black Angel!" The curtains parted and there stood Mikhail in a black trench-coat, black combat boots, and mirrored shades holding a microphone.

A guitar screamed behind him and the drums started pounding. Phoebe couldn't help herself; she pushed her way closer to the stage until she was standing right in front of it. By this time Mikhail had started singing. The guitar wailed and the drums throbbed and his voice rang out over the club, by now a sea of swaying bodies.

"All my life I've over the top

I don't know what I'm doing

All I know is I don't wanna stop

All fired up I'm gonna go till I drop

You're either in or in the way

Don't make me, I don't wanna stop"

The songs continued for about another half-an-hour before finishing with a spectacular cover of Paranoid. Mikhail leapt straight down from to the stage after the finale, right into the crowd. Phoebe fought her way over and they embraced. "So," he asked. "What'cha think?" Phoebe simply shook her head and kissed him. They returned to the table and ordered dinner. That was quite a stunt you pulled," she said once they had sat down. Mikhail grinned roguishly, "I just wanted our first date to be memorable." Phoebe smiled gently and placed her hand on his cheek. "Well it will be," she said.

After a lengthy pause Phoebe said, "When you left yesterday, what did you mean by 'Tell Leo I'm not a Darklighter?" Mikhail shook his head and laughed quietly. "Phoebe," he said. "I know about witches, daemons, Whitelighters, and Darklighters. My family has had a number of powerful witches and even some warlocks. I grew up in a magic household; my father had a Darklighter bow as a trophy over the mantle-piece. Trust me, your secret is safe with me." Phoebe's eyes had grown progressively wider and by the end of Mikhail's statement she looked enormously relieved. "Good," she laughed. "Because I had no idea how to tell you I'm a…" Mikhail's eyes flashed wide, "Shhh! The walls have ears around here Phoebe and I'm pretty sure you don't need anyone on your tail about your secret."

The rest of the night passed much as a first date should. They ate, talked, discussed likes and dislikes. After another thirty minutes Phoebe's cell-phone rang. Mikhail rolled his eyes as Phoebe opened the black device. "What," she napped into the receiver. Prue, on the other end of the line, recoiled from the force of Phoebe's irritation. "Whoa Phoebe," Prue said meekly. "What was that?" Phoebe grimaced and replied, "Sorry Prue. What's going on?" Now it was Prue's turn to shout, "We're are under attack by daemons! That's what's going on…AH!" A shattering noise followed Prue's startled cry and that prompted Phoebe to shout into the receiver, "Hang on I'm coming!" Mikhail had half risen from the table by now and he shot Phoebe a worried look. "What's going on," he asked. Phoebe grabbed his arm and together they ran out of the club while she explained, "Oh it's just my work life interfering with my love life as usual!"

She fished desperately in her purse for he keys but then a sleek and undeniably sexy black motorcycle roared up next to her. Mikhail opened the visor on his helmet to say, "This is faster, c'mon." Phoebe slipped on behind him and he rolled his foot over the accelerator and the bike leapt forward. Phoebe squeaked and grabbed him around the chest, holding in tight for dear life. For Phoebe the ride thorough midnight San Fran was as terrifying as any daemon she had vanquished. Mikhail drove like a man who knew the city, or at least like a man who wanted to die in it. He cut across three lanes of traffic, weaving in and out of cars and trucks sometimes hissing past by a bare few millimeters. In the dark it seemed as though they were a pair of minnows in a stream of whales. It was intoxicating and in that brief few minutes Phoebe felt free, all the troubles in the world vanished in a rush of air.

Then the bike stopped in front of 1329 Prescott St. and all of her troubles came rushing back. The front door swung crazily on its one remaining hinge and from what she could see the rest of the house was just as bad. Scorch marks covered the wall, no doubt errant fireballs deflected by Prue. Books lay scattered along the floor and tables had been overturned, their previous occupants shattered into dagger-like pieces. Judging by the lack of infernal soldiers standing in the living room the fight has progressed quite far into the house. "Prue, Piper," Phoebe shouted. Mikhail made a motion to get her attention and shook his head, putting a finger over his lips. Phoebe winced and nodded. A crash from the other room caused Phoebe to jump, landing in a fighting crouch, hands extended. Mikhail put his hand out in front of her before reaching inside his trench-coat and removing a large black pistol. His companion flinched; this would be an interesting one to explain to the cops assuming they survived.

Mikhail eased open the door, leading with the gun. His first impression of the room was that he was walking into a wax museum. Figures in many different styles of clothing stood frozen in so many different poses. Then he saw Piper standing over an injured Prue, her own forehead cut and scratches torn in her sleeve. Leo stood beside her, supporting her and glaring at Mikhail. Phoebe followed him in and upon seeing Prue she rushed past Mikhail to hug her and then Piper. They began talking earnestly about what to do with their new menagerie. "Well we can't just leave them there," argued Leo. "I think," began Ptue but she stopped when her broken ribs flared in pain. "Look," replied Piper. "I can't hold them forever so decide faster."

BANG! Piper jumped and screamed, unfreezing a daemon that collapsed, a single hole in his head, then disappeared in a cloud of fire. Mikhail looked around sheepishly and mouthed, "Sorry!" Piper placed her hands on her hips and fixed Mikhail with a steely gaze before demanding, "What the hell are you doing?" Mikhail looked down at his smoking gun, the gun he had just shot the daemon with and shrugged. "Taking care of your daemon problem," he replied. "The ethics aside, how can your gun even hurt daemons," Leo asked. Mikhail grinned, a smile designed to flash his fang-like incisors and replied, "This is a special weapon designed by my grandfather, he was half Darklighter, he designed the weapon in 1942 during the battle of Guadalcanal. The Japanese had several warlocks on their side and they were wreaking havoc."

At the mention of that date Leo flinched. Mikhail noticed it. "That was when you were made into a Whitelighter, wasn't it Leo," he asked. Leo's only reply was a curt nod. "Anyway," Mikhail continued. "This seems to be the quickest way to get rid of the eight or so daemons that are left. I don't think that we could fight them all." He rested the barrel on another daemon's forehead and, before anyone could stop him, pulled the trigger. The sound was deafening and all three witches jumped as it echoed around the house like a trapped spirit. Leo orbed over and grabbed the barrel of the gun as Mikhail pointed it at the next daemon. "Stop," he commanded. Mikhail looked at him questioningly. "Whitelighters defending daemons now are they," he asked. Leo shook his head and replied, "No but it's wrong to vanquish them this way. They can't fight back, it's not honorable." Mikhail laughed quietly, "Disregarding the absurdity of that last statement, would you prefer the daemons have a chance at killing your wife Leo, and the other women you've risked your afterlife several times to save? Back to the absurdity of that last statement, honor? Among daemons? If we were frozen and they had the gun they wouldn't show us the same kindness. This is the only way to be sure."

Leo shook his head, "No Mikhail, I can't allow this to happen. I won't let you kill them like this." Mikhail spun around, his silvery eyes flashing. "What would you do then Whitelighter? Would you unfreeze them? That's out of the question so find me another solution," he snarled. Phoebe interposed herself between the two men and placed a hand on each. She gasped, her ears ringing, her head spinning. Then she saw_. Four men in black suits with guns, the weapons discharged, all four rounds slamming into Mikhail's chest. He reeled backwards and collapsed against a wall, leaving a trail of blood behind him. She heard herself scream, saw herself lunge forward. The daemons turned on her, each raising their guns, they fired…._

Phoebe's consciousness retuned to her body and she felt tears sliding down her cheeks. Mikhail caught her, holding her close. "What's wrong Phoebe? What is it," he asked softly. Through her tears Phoebe said, "Saw you g..g..get shot. Four men i..in black suits. They shot you, t..t….then they shot me!" Piper's and Leo's eyes grew wide and Prue tried to stand but her injured leg collapsed under her and she yelled in pain. It took several minutes for Phoebe to calm down and when she did her eyes took on a haunted look. "You've got to stay away from me," she said. "You were with me in my premonition. If you stay away you should be fine." Mikhail shook his dark hair. "Phoebe I won't endanger you. You said that in your premonition the attacked you too right? If I'm there you are in as much danger as I." He sighed, "I think it's best we put our relationship on hold for the time being. I couldn't bare the thought of you being in danger on my account."

Phoebe nodded sadly, "I agree, at least we find why our house has become daemon central." Mikhail stood gave Phoebe a quick kiss on the lips and slapped Leo on shoulder before waving to the two witches and slipping out the door. Soon the sound of his motorcycle could be heard roaring it's mechanical fury down the darkened street. A faint jingle echoed in Leo's ear and he almost jumped out of his seat. Phoebe had placed her head onto Prue's shoulder and crying quietly. Piper looked at Leo quizzically. He shook his head, a sign for 'we'll talk later'. After everyone had regained their senses and Prue's ribs and leg were bandaged, the four of them Moved the daemons out into the night and positioned them in the road so they would be run over by the next passing truck. After the vehicle in question had squished them Piper unfroze them. Then they made their way up and into the attic to consult the oracle of mysticism, the Book of Shadows.

The search for answers took them long into the night. What they found, however came as no relief to them. Having come up with nothing the others had given up, Phoebe on the other hand was not about to let magic ruin another relationship. She was absently flipping pages, thinking about Mikhail when the page she was holding flipped out of her hands. The pages fluttered and rippled and when they stopped Phoebe froze as well. There, on the page, in gold calligraphy were the words Prophecy of Five and the End. "Prue, Piper, Leo," she shouted. The three came racing up the stairs to find a very distraught Phoebe. "Read this," she said quietly. Prue shuddered as she read aloud, "

Three there were, five there are

United by the Evenstar

The Daemon gathers strength to him

Armies of his evil kin

The darkness walks in mortal guise

Powers wakened by demise

The light had faded, lost to love

Wings are clipped, a flightless dove

To face three daemon lords so fell

Five must journey beyond hell

Four again will see the sky

But The Shadowed One must stay and die" Piper's jaw dropped and she whispered, "Oh my god!"

"Why, why, why!" Corax roared. "Those daemons were our best chance at slaying the Charmed Ones!" His companions laughed. "Calm yourself Corax," drawled Aramane. "Ye will have another chance besides I think Baal just wanted to play with his new toy. Isn't that right Baal?" The large black skinned being sitting in the dark nodded and grinned ferociously. "That is correct Aramane and he performed admirably don't you think? His deception was perfect. Corax your daemons never even suspected him," he rumbled. "I rather like this new twist, I mean a relationship with the youngest? Bravo Mikhail! Bravo!" Mocking laughter echoed around the chamber as all three daemons vented their mirth. And why not? The mortal world was ripe for the taking…


	4. Daemons and Angels

Mikhail sat in the kitchen bandaging his knuckles, and thinking back on his meeting with his boss. He had gone home after his talk with Phoebe, so furious with himself and his boss that he sank his fist into the nearest mirror. That however was not why he was bandaging his hand. After sucking down half a bottle of bourbon he had passed out on the couch to sleep it off. It was about three in the morning when his phone rang. Groggily he answered it, "H-hello?" The ominous laughter on the other end told him who it was before Baal answered, "And a pleasant evening to you as well Mikhail" The daemon lord always spoke courteously to Mikhail, a sign of respect for his dark servant.

"I require your presence before my colleagues and I. Now that you have earned the Charmed Ones' trust we will issue more detailed instructions," Baal stated. Mikhail groaned quietly. His head was throbbing and his temper was short. The last thing he needed were a trio of daemon lords' subtle hints at their superiority grating on his already shortened temper. Baal's chuckle sounded like a distant rumble of thunder. "Sooner rather than later my friend," the daemon laughed. Mikhail decided to end the one way conversation by responding, "Wow, you must really want something if you're calling a mortal being friend, 'my lord'." The phone connection dropped with a sudden click and Mikhail grinned sourly. That was one of the perks of working with daemons; their buttons were so easy to push.

Mikhail arrived at the site at precisely 3:33a.m. He sighed, these daemons were always so melodramatic. It was ridiculous, he was just as likely to be seen now than at any other time of night but no, it had to be a '333'. The middle of Hero's Grove in Golden Gate Park seemed an ironic place for a portal to Hell to be open but there it was. A swirling cloud of flames collected around a single point in space. Mikhail took a deep breath and stepped into the flames. The heat was intense; he could almost feel his blood boiling and his skin sloughing off. He forced himself onward down the corridor and it's many twists and curves. Then it all came to a sudden end. He was standing in a sweltering cavern lit by a red glow emanating from daemonic runes carved on the walls. In the shadows stood three dark figures in red robes. Their features were shrouded by shadow but Mikhail, rising from his knees, could tell Baal from Aramane and Corax. He towered over everything in the room; projecting an air of power and superiority that irritated Mikhail to no end.

"Welcome Mikhail, we have some instructions for you," Corax's high-pitched, raw voice grated on Mikhail's already frayed nerves. The human's steely-blue eyes flashed and he answered fearlessly, "I'll not receive instructions from an underling. I speak to the Master not you Corax." The daemon leaned forward towards Mikhail and hissed. "I would be more careful how you speak to a lord of the New Race of daemons if I were you," he snarled. Mikhail spat in his face. Baal stepped in before Corax could rip apart Mikhail and said, "Gentlemen let us not quarrel amongst ourselves. Mikhail you are right in your respect, you speak to the Master not his underlings. You should observe, however, that Corax stands on this pedestal alongside me. In the future you shall afford him the same respect you show me." Mikhail snorted bur otherwise remained silent. Baal nodded before continuing.

"You have done well Mikhail, in forming a relationship with Phoebe you have gained the Charmed Ones trust. Now you must eliminate their Whitelighter, this Leo Wyatt." Mikhail shook his head. "I'm sure I can handle the Charmed Ones on my own. Leo doesn't need to die. Besides I want to see the look on his face when he finds his wife dead. Whitelighters make me sick." Aramane laughed, "You show an unusual taste for bloodshed. I see that I made the right choice in our mortal agent. You must strike quickly and decisively. The eldest must be the first to die, as she is the only one with an active power that affects you. The other two may be eliminated in any other way. Be quick about it as, once the youngest sisters find the oldest dead they are sure to come to us for vengeance." As Mikhail began to exit the portal he heard Corax remark, "The only sad thing is that he must kill Phoebe before a single serious relationship can develop. I think I'll have fun with her soul…" Mikhail whirled about, faster that even Baal's gaze could follow.

His fist shattered Corax's cheekbones and jaw, deforming his face and sending the supposed daemon lord reeling across the chamber. Baal lunged forward to strike him down but Aramane caught him and held him back. Corax picked himself up off the floor with acidic green daemon blood spattering the floor and melting holes in it. Then Mikhail looked down at his fist, burning acid had drawn a line across his knuckles deep enough to score bone. He lunged for the portal with Aramane's words following him back to the mortal world, "If you ever strike one of us again even I, the most lenient of daemons, will not be so forgiving!" Mikhail just laughed, pleased to have finally vented his frustration upon a reactive source.

Now he sat in his kitchen with blood oozing out of the deep gash that Corax's blood had dug. He had no one to blame but himself, he had forgotten the acidic properties of daemon blood. The pain wasn't as intense as he had anticipated but it didn't feel great either. He checked the clock and found that even though he had spent about twenty minutes in Hell only two minutes had passed on Earth. He decided it was time for a little recon into Halliwell manor. He stood up and walked into his bedroom closet. His fingers punched a combination on the lock at the back and a hidden door swung open.

Inside was a pentagram, painstakingly drawn on the floor, a bowl for offerings, and a ceremonial athame for when a spell required blood. He walked into the pentangle and allowed a blood to drip onto the floor. The shadows seemed to quiver in anticipation. Spreading his hands he spoke in a quiet voice, almost coaxing. "

Shadow, shadow on the wall

Follow at my beck and call

A slave you are, a slave you'll be

Follow them and spy for me

When what was hidden has been learned

Freedom, yours, shall be returned"

A small patch of darkness detached itself from the wall and slithered over to him. He placed his hand upon it and concentrated all of his thoughts on the three Halliwell sisters. The shadow rippled once in acknowledgement before slithering away into a dark corner and vanishing.

Phoebe sighed; she was getting ready for bed but was having trouble relaxing. Her talk with Mikhail wound her up tighter than a clock-spring; she could feel the knots tightening in her back even thinking about him. A hot shower would be just the thing to relax her and allow her to get some sleep She stepped into the steaming water and it seemed to release everything. She sank to her knees and let the tears flow down her face. Her thoughts followed a more direct pattern now that she was alone. The one relationship that was sanctioned by magic had been ruined by a vision. Not a daemon, not a warlock, not an evil witch but by her own ability. She had seen Mikhail get shot but not his death. She couldn't know if he would or wouldn't die, but she had stopped it anyway.

She stayed that way for a half-an-hour before recovering her tenuous composure and shutting off the water to preserve some for Prue's morning. She stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around herself. She smeared the tears off her face and breathed deeply. Looking in the mirror she was frightened by what she saw. A pale skinny girl with red-rimmed, bloodshot brown eyes, and mascara running down her face stared back at her. She had that raw look of fear and tension that came from living on the edge. Anger flooded through her at the unfairness of it all. She snapped out her fist, shattering the mirror and slicing open the knuckles on her left hand. "Ow, dammit," she shouted.

That last little bit of bad judgment sent her over the edge. After bandaging her hand she got dressed in her darkest clothes and stormed out into the night. She walked into the city and roamed the alleyways looking for a likely prospect. A thug or junkie looking to pick on an innocent woman lost at night. An outlet upon which to vent her fury.

Even to her, however, the darkness was never safe but she didn't care at this point. All she craved was the physical release of combat. A state where thinking got you killed but reaction saved your life. After wandering around for an hour she found a target. She staggered out into the alley. "Hey, boys," she giggled, pretending drunkenness. The four men stepped out from the shadows pointing automatic weapons at her, "Clear out. Now." She froze; these were the same four men from her premonition. The same four daemons. In spite of that she laughed. She could leave and stop the vision; she could deny fate. A shout caused her to turn. From the darkness of the alley Mikhail was sprinting toward her, his hands outstretched. His eyes were wild, his hair disheveled and his trench-coat was torn. He had cuts and bruises covering the entirety of his body. "Phoebe," he roared. "Get down!"

Just like in her premonition the click of a cocking weapon shattered the quiet of the night. Four gunshots roared and Mikhail staggered back against the wall. He slid down it and lay on the floor of the alley with four neat holes in his chest. Blood oozed out making a black shirt darker and spreading in a crimson pool around him. His blue eyes flickered and he gasped once. Then his eyes glazed over and all the tension left his body.

Phoebe screamed and lunged forward, her fear replaced by anger. The daemons turned on her. The world seemed to pass in slow motion and a rhyme cut through the night.

"Grant me power beyond the light

To banish evil from my sight

Summon darkness, blackness cold

Swallow fiend and killer whole.

Powers old and daemons fell

You cannot have this Halliwell!"

Four more gunshots sounded and Phoebe jerked back, falling. Four bullets punctured her chest and slammed her into the ground. Her vision faded but she heard screams and crashes. On the verge of blackness a figure leaned over her and placed his hands over her chest, where she surmised she's been shot. A most curious sensation came over her. A feeling of love, of being whole, then she blacked out. When she came to she scrambled around. Looking around the alley she found nothing; no daemons only scorch marks from vanquishings. She whirled around to find that there was no Mikhail laying there, only a pool of blood. Absolutely confused she walked home in a daze. Staggering across Prescot street she opened her phone. It rang five times before going to voice message, "It's me Mikhail I'm either not available, avoiding you, or dead. If the last is true please don't expect a callback. Bye." Despite everything that had happened that night, she managed a quiet laugh. She opened the door to the manor and was greeted by the sight of two angry sisters. "Where the hell were you," that asked in unison. Phoebe glared at them, still very much shaken by the night's events, and snarled, "You two rehearse that?" Piper looked taken aback by the force of Phoebe's reply but Prue went right on ahead and stated ranting. Piper, however, noticed the unshed tears gathered in Phoebe's eyes and stopped her angry sister. "What's wrong honey," Piper asked. Phoebe broke down into tears for the third time that night and proceeded to tell her sisters everything that had transpired.

Mikhail lay in bed and thought. He tried to sort out everything that had happened. After summoning the shadow to follow the sisters he went for a walk. To clear his head he would wander the darkened streets looking for a fight. Being of Russian and Irish descent his temper was extremely volatile. His fury had temporarily abated after injuring Corax but it soon returned ten-fold. Donning his coat and shades he prowled the alleys looking for a target. A thug in the middle of an attack would do nicely. Ten blocks over he found one. A tall, heavy man had pushed a woman up against the wall and was threatening her with his knife. Mikhail worked his way around the attacker and slipped from the shadows. "Hey tiny," Mikhail called. The thug glanced over at Mikhail and laughed. "Who r'you, " he slurred. Mikhail sighed, there was no fun in taking down a drunk but it was too late to back out now.

His hands flickered in a one two combination the thug managed to dodge one but the other caught him a stinging slap on the ear. He reeled sideways and tried to stab Mikhail but again Mikhail was too fast. He deflected the blade with his arm and hooked a punch in shattering the man's floating ribs. He curled in on himself coughing, blood spattered the pavement as Mikhail followed through with an uppercut. His nose shattered, ribs broken, and thoroughly disoriented the fight left the mugger and he toppled backwards onto the sidewalk. The woman turned to him and flung herself upon him, he held her for a moment before pushing her away and saying, "He'll wake up in a few minutes so you'd better get out of here." She looked at him strangely before nodding and staggering away.

Twenty minutes and four fights later Mikhail's fury began to wane and he started to feel the bruises, cuts, and contusions. Then he heard a drunken giggle. Vaulting off of a dumpster and onto the roof of a low building he decided to investigate the source of the laugh. A drunken laugh usually preempted an attack. When he saw whom the giggle belonged to, he froze. Phoebe was wandering out into the path of four tall daemons holding automatic weapons. He froze as he remembered her premonition. Him shot in the chest and her about to be shot. He was torn, on one hand this could eliminate one of the Charmed Ones and make his job easier but on the other hand he couldn't just let Phoebe die at the hands of four daemonic gunmen.

He lunged forward, screaming for her to get down. Four sharp cracks shattered the night and he felt the impacts. Searing pain blasted through his body and his vision faded. As he felt his life slipping away a rhyme sprang unbidden to his lips. "

Grant me power beyond the light

To banish Evil from my sight

Summon darkness, blackness cold

Swallow fiend and killer whole

Powers old and daemons fell

You cannot have this Halliwell!"

Power flooded through his system and he flew to his feet. He couldn't explain it and he didn't want to. His darker nature flared and a pair of knives sprang into his hands. He looked at them, a pair of finely crafted silver blades with black leather wrapped hilts. As the surprised daemons turned on him and he decided that it was a good idea to put this newfound power to use. He focused on the spot behind the lead daemon and suddenly he was there. He paused in confusion but the rational part of his brain said "kill now marvel later" and he obeyed. He slashed one knife across the daemon's neck and plunged the other into his spine. He spun to the left drawing the knife across the back of this one's knees, hamstringing him. The creature shrieked in pain as he toppled forward, cracking his neck as he landed on his head. The other two spun, leveling their guns but Mikhail was ready. He worked his right knife in a circular motion to catch the gun barrels, turning them to the side. One daemon managed to pull the trigger but all he succeeded in doing was killing his partner. His left knife flipped up and across the final daemon's throat sending acidic blood spraying across the alley.

He finished his spin with a flourish that flung daemon blood off of his blades. Then he came back to reality and realized that Phoebe had been hit worse than he had been. He sprinted over to her and knelt beside her. Blood pooled around her and some flecked her face. Mikhail sighed and focused, he had no idea what his power could do but he hoped desperately that it could heal. Phoebe gasped and shifted as he placed his hands over the wounds, nothing happened. He swore viciously and placed his hands over the wounds again. Nothing, he had never felt helpless and did not appreciate the feeling. Phoebe gasped again but this time she didn't inhale. Then the dam broke, tears slid down his face and he laid his head down on her chest and let the sadness and love pour out with the tears. It had worked before over the years but this time he couldn't let her go. The wounds started to glow and she inhaled violently. Mikhail knew instinctively that she couldn't know that he was still alive so he ran.

The last bit of the memory brought him full circle t his apartment downtown. Now that his facts were in order his thoughts turned to the New Triad. They couldn't know what had transpired could they? Then he remembered Belthazor and cringed. He had shown sympathy to the witches, those daemons were part of Corax's legion and they were hunting him, not Phoebe. That was the reason that they had been attacked. Despite his current predicament Mikhail laughed. Baal and Aramane would be furious with Corax. Now they had lost their link to the mortal world. They would most likely replace him or just kill him. Mikhail was officially a free agent now. Just as that thought struck him he felt a tug. A pull on his very essence, it hurt. A lot. He screamed but knew instinctively that if he resisted this he would die.

Somehow as he was forcibly orbed he managed to stay conscious but just barely. When the ordeal was over he found himself in a white steel room surrounded by tall figures in blank robes and equally blank faces. He rose off his knees and looked around. He surrounded by nine of these robed figures all of them staring at him with no expression. "I am honored by this summons but may I ask why I'm here," he asked. One of the Elders stepped forward and waved her hand. A chair appeared and she said, "Please, sit down." Being in no position to refuse Mikhail sat. He opened his mouth to repeat his earlier inquiry but before he could the Elder looked him in the eye and said, "Listen to me Darklighter, and listen to me very carefully. I know who you are, I know that the Triad sent you to kill the Charmed Ones but you have betrayed them. They will never stop hunting you unless we cloak you. In exchange you will protect the Charmed Ones for us." Mikhail nodded. "Sounds fair," he agreed. The Elder shook her head and continued, "They are raising an army." That was as far as she got as Mikhail interrupted, "Excuse me? An army? I might need a little backup then." He stopped as the Elder glared him into silence before continuing, "You need to get them and the Book of Shadows away from the manor as soon as possible." Mikhail nodded "I can arrange that," he replied. The Elder nodded. "We will replace you now. When you awaken you will take the Charmed Ones away from there and to these coordinates." Mikhail nodded and the tug vanished. He woke up in his apartment with all his injuries healed and a new pistol resting next to him. "Thanks," he said looking up at the sky and waving the gun.

Thinking quickly he lunged for his keys and jumped into his bike. Tattered coat flapping in the back draft he sped to the Halliwell's house. On the way there he thought about how he would get them out. Then he hit upon an idea. He had explored his powers and had found that he could project a convincing illusion and he already knew that the witch's powers didn't affect him with the exception of Prue. The idea became a plan and that became an action. He leapt the thirty feet from ground to roof and placed his palms against the wood. Inside he could hear Prue reading, "Allied he is with Aramane." A snap and Phoebe's voice, "Well ladies we are well and truly, royally screwed!" He took a deep breath and exerted his will on the wall and it exploded inward and froze…


	5. Death of Peace

Author's note: Dear loyal readers,

I am soooo sorry. I have been in Massachusetts for three weeks without internet access. If anybody's still out there you're a good friend and you have my undying gratitude. For those of you just joining, what the hell are you doing? Read the first four chapters first.

Phoebe's head spun and her ears rung. She wondered if she could have a premonition when she was asleep. Then, as she sat up, she realized that she wasn't in her own bed. Pausing, she took stock of the situation. The last thing she remembered was Prue reading a warning from the Book. Then the wall exploded and she remembered a vague feeling of betrayal. Where was she? A sudden feeling of terror gripped her: what if she had been kidnapped. _Get a hold of yourself girl,_ she chided herself. She could more than handle a few kidnappers. She decided that it was time to take matters into her own hands. She stood up and drew back her foot before slamming it into the door and sending the flimsy piece of plywood flying off into the opposite wall. She crept out into the darkened hallway.

"Damn Phoebe; it was just a door. What'd it ever do to you," Mikhail asked from the shadows. Phoebe almost jumped out of her skin. She whipped around to see Mikhail laying on a couch, tossing a curious looking knife into the air and catching it by the point. At the sight of her erstwhile boyfriend it all came rushing back. She drew back her hand and punched Mikhail across the face. As she was about to follow through he shot to his feet catching her in a bear hug and preventing her from moving. "I guess I deserved that," he quipped. Phoebe struggled and fought while snarling, "You deserve so much more you…" Mikhail risked freeing an arm to place a tender finger over her lips. She froze when she realized that that finger was charged with a dark energy.

"I'm not the bad guy here Phoebe," then, seeing her incredulity, amended, "All evidence to the contrary. After I was shot I gained the powers of a Darklighter and a daemon. I was contacted by the elders who charged me with protecting you, I couldn't do that with Baal watching my every move. The gun that I," Here he paused as pain entered his eyes, sincere pain. "I used has the ability to project an illusion so powerful that even Baal couldn't break it. It looked to him like I… performed my service. You are safe now; we're in one of the safe-houses I used as a mortal. I understand if you still want to hurt me and I won't stop you."

Phoebe pulled back her fist a second time but then she saw the pain that clouded Mikhail's eyes and dropped it. Instead she sat down on the couch and curled up into a ball to review the events of the past few days. Mikhail lay down on the couch and placed his head in her lap. She made a move to push him off but he responded with a hurt face and she relented. He had saved all their lives after all; but it still scared her that he could actually stomach even pretending to kill her. "I couldn't stomach it Phoebe. After it was done I couldn't move while by mind tried to cope what I'd just done," he stated quietly. She nodded then she stopped. "How did you know what I was thinking?" she asked. He chuckled softly, "Part of my power is empathy and mind-reading. I'm sorry about what I did and I don't think that I'll be able to forgive myself. I can only hope that you can." Phoebe sniffled; to hear this admission from as cold and hardened person as Mikhail moved her almost to tears. His hand slipped up the side of her face and intercepted the shining droplet. She leaned down and kissed him deeply, he responded and from the force of his response it was clear to Phoebe that he wanted to stay this way for a while.

"Wow," uttered Piper as she walked into the room and found the two of them; such as they were. Phoebe took her time pulling back but when she did she did it with finality. "Is Prue awake?" she asked. The sister in question raced around the corner, her fists up. Upon seeing Mikhail she sent him flying from the couch to wall behind it, tipping Phoebe over in the process. She readied herself for a follow-up but Phoebe planted herself in between the furious witch and her currently abused boyfriend. "Wait," she cried. Piper and Prue looked at each other in confusion. "Uh, Phoebe, honey, he tried to kill us!" Prue said with incredulity. "No," said Leo, moments after orbing in. "He saved your lives and the Book of Shadows. Come with me, the Elders want a chat with us." He looked back at Mikhail with a mixture of fury and admiration. "All of us," he added.

Mikhail nodded as he collected his trench coat and shades. Piper shook her head, "Why do you feel the need to go everywhere dressed like Neo?" The Darklighter shrugged and replied, "It's part of my charm." She nodded as though not convinced. Phoebe grabbed his arm and squeezed it to her chest.

"At least I still love you," she said. Leo gestured anxiously and called, "C'mon, let's go." Mikhail sighed and walked reluctantly over to the circle of people in the living room. Leo looked at him quizzically.

"What," he asked. Mikhail cringed and replied, "It hurts to be orbed by a Whiteligter." Prue shook her head with impatience and muttered, "Urgh, you big baby c'mon!" Mikhail sighed, defeated, and joined the group. Leo closed his eyes and willed them into the Overworld.

As they entered the realm Mikhail yelped. His skin was mildly burned as though he had spent too much time in the sun; he rubbed a hand along his brow and moaned. Prue sighed again and slapped him on the shoulder causing him to yelp again. Phoebe smacked Prue on the arm and took Mikhail's arm again causing him to yelp yet again. He broke away from her yelling, "Oww, stoppit!" The other four laughed and slapped him on the back in unison. Mikhail, to his credit, didn't make a sound, simply straightened his usually slumped posture and gritted his teeth. He was about to take a swing at Leo when a cold voice floated out across the clouds, "I'll not have bloodshed among the clouds and I certainently did not summon you here to squabble." All five turned to see who addressed them and Phoebe took the opportunity of one last slap on the back.

Anger laced Mikhail's voice as he snarled, "There a reason why you summoned me? Or do you people just like to screw with my head? You know Darklighters can't stand being in the Overworld!" Leo whipped around, shock and anger showing on his face but the Elder held up a hand forestalling him. Ice still showed in Leo's eyes but he halted his motion.

"I'll explain to you why you are here," the Elder spoke in a calming tone of voice. "You, Mikhail, are a Darklighter who will be a powerful force, be it for Good or for Evil that has yet to be determined. The three of you, Prudence, Piper, Phoebe, are the Charmed Ones of legend. You are the vanquishers of all daemons. You Leo are the best of all Whitelighters. We feel it best that we return your powers to you. You five beings are the ones spoken of in the prophecy.

"The daemon Baal is trying to unite the Underworld under one banner. He will try to unleash the Hollow and harness it's power. He must be stopped and the five of you must do this. The prophecy speaks of this event. It can only come about, however, if Mikhail can become good and the Charmed Ones learn how to fight daemons."

Prue stared at Elder with incredulity and asked, "Whaddya mean, learn how to fight daemons? We have vanquished every daemon that has come across us. We know how to fight daemons!" Mikhail shook his head.

"No she means physically, hand to hand combat, the way other daemons fight daemons" at this Mikhail grinned. "We get to fight daemons the way I fight them. With any weapon that comes to hand, I prefer an athame myself." The Elder held up a hand to forestall any more violent talk in her sanctuary and said, I will give unto you the proper materials and place to hone these… necessary skills." Mikhail grinned excitedly but cringed as Phoebe clutched his hand, hard. The Elder made a sweeping gesture and the clouds faded to be replaced by a dark, corrugated metal room with racks of weapons lining the walls. Mikhail stood there grinning like an idiot as he gazed at the ugly room.

"Now this is my kinda place," the Darkligher stated. Prue and Piper rolled their eyes and Leo groaned. Phoebe however looked at Mikhail with interest.

"Now how do you expect to teach us about fighting daemons," she asked. Mikhail chuckled evilly and replied, "Ever vanquish a daemon with your bare hands? Nooo? I didn't think so. As a Darklighter I learned that vanquishing a daemon is as easy as stabbing them with an athame or shattering a few choice bones. It is a bit more dangerous than what you're used to but in battle you may not have time to consult the Book to find the proper spell. An athame is an assured way to banish a daemon. Especially if you know how to use it. I can teach you how to fight with a knife or any other weapons."

Prue snorted. "Are we sure that we vanquished that Deadly Sins daemon because someone has a case of the prides." Mikhail smirked and shot back, "Shall we dance then Prudence?" He stepped forward and suddenly there were a pair of silver knives in his hands. He tossed one to Prue and assumed a fighting stance. Prue came in low and fast with an uppercut but Mikhail swayed aside. Letting Prue recover he waved her on. She came in high and fast this time with a reverse hand stab. Mikhail, however, was more than ready; he deflected with his right arm. Allowing his hand to slide down her arm to catch her wrist and spin her around into a chokehold, planting his knifepoint against her trachea and chuckling.

"Now who's got a case of the prides," Mikhail asked calmly as Prue struggled in his iron grasp. Finally she went limp and ceased fighting. Mikhail released her but she wasn't finished. Spinning around she slashed at his neck but his knife intercepted her's and flicked it up out of Ptue's grasp and into the air. His free hand snapped up and caught the falling dagger. He placed both blades across her neck like a giant pair of scissors. Prue sighed and blew a strand of hair away from her face. She shrugged.

"Fine," she said. "I guess you win." Mikhail nodded and handed her back the knife, commenting, "You keep that weapon with you for the next month. By the end of that month you'll be able to do what I just did. Also by then end of that month you will not like me; any of you. Now let's begin.

"That door over to the right leads to your new home for the next month. It's a jungle in there and a lot of it ain't pretty. You will survive there for a month and at the end of that month you will learn how to fight for real." All three girls groaned and filed towards the door. As Mikhail decided to do the gentlemanly thing and open the door for them all three of them snapped into fighting poses. Mikhail smiled approvingly and said, "That's what I wanna see. If you wanna have a go now you're welcome to it."

Fight they did, Piper threw a high punch while Phoebe tried to sweep out his legs. Mikhail leapt into the air and into a back flip to avoid the punch. As he landed Prue flashed into action launching a spinning back-kick at his mid-section. Mikhail caught her foot and twisted it sideways trusting her body to follow. Predictably she spiraled away from him and all four resumed their stances as Leo watched impassively.

"What are we about to undergo," Phoebe asked. Mikhail laughed softly and replied, "C'mon Pheebs don't you trust me?"

Four Weeks Later

Mikhail twisted to the side to avoid Phoebe's athame. Slashing at the back of her knees as droplets of sweat filled the air. She transferred her forward motion into a roll as Piper sliced at Mikhail's turned head. He knew better than to duck so he used his free hand to slap the flat of the blade down, the razor edge almost slicing into his hand, and responded by touching his shining dagger to her neck and calling out, "Touch!" Piper sighed and ducked out of the sparring ring. Prue slid into Piper's position with an upward stab towards his ribs, her now lank chocolate hair flying behind her. Mikhail slipped aside and kicked her leg out. She dropped to one knee as he laid his blade on her neck and called out, "Touch!" Prue slipped back out, breathing heavily, as Phoebe attacked from behind.

Mikhail felt cold silver touching the back of his neck, smelled her sweat and that intoxicating spice that surrounded her, and heard his girlfriend call out triumphantly, "Touch!" Mikhail smiled calmly and replied, "Let us examine that claim shall we my dear." Phoebe looked down at Mikhail's argent blade pricking the flesh under her left breast at such an angle that would have punctured her heart had he followed through. As it was it tore a small hole in the soaked crimson gym-shirt she wore. She sighed in frustration, kissed him lightly on the lips and they stepped out of the ring.

As he grabbed a towel and tossed it to Phoebe he announced, "Leo I believe they're ready." He shook his head, sending sweat droplets spraying out of his midnight-black hair, as he discovered that the hard-working Whitelighter was fast asleep on a flimsy chair tucked into the far corner. Piper looked at him in confusion and asked, "How are we ready? We can't land a blow on you let alone do any kind of damage." Phoebe snorted, "Pease, speak for yourself sis." Piper mock glared at her. Here Mikhail smiled softly.

"No you can't but I'm stronger than any of the daemon's we will fight down there, so you're about as prepared as you can get. Let's go… talk to the Elders. Ugh I hate this." Piper stepped forward; hands held out straight and interrupted, "Whoa, whoa, whoa. Can we shower and change and y'know just become civilized again? Please?" Mikhail relented.

"I guess," he confirmed. At that he stripped off his shirt and walked over into the corner, towards the male dressing room. As he walked past them Prue and Phoebe's heads tracked his chiseled body and Prue remarked, "I see what you see in him sis." Phoebe smacked her on the arm and walked over to the female changing room.

After cleaning and dressing, the four combatants walked over to Leo who was still sleeping in a chair in a corner of the room. Piper grinned wickedly and ran a fingernail lightly down the side of his face but when she reached his neck she jabbed the implement into the soft flesh. The result was spectacular. Leo merely twitched; the flimsy chair however rocked, creaked, and collapsed under the dozing Whitelighter. To his credit, Leo stayed asleep until he hit the floor on his behind. Then he woke up, fast.

"Owwww," he whined. Piper stood over him with a malicious look hovering around her face. Mikhail glanced over at her with surprise and approval before asking Phoebe, "You wouldn't do that to me would you?" She put on an innocent face and shook her head, wholly unconvincing. Mikhail shot her an amused look before hauling Leo to his feet and slapping him on the back.

"C'mon lazy, let's get this over with. Oh and if any of you jokers even think about slapping me, remember that I am a Darklighter and I do posses the touch of death," Mikhail declared his pale fingers glowing cherry red for emphasis. The girls shot each other evil grins. Leo shook his head to clear it of cobwebs and focused on the Overworld. Mikhail gritted his teeth and hissed as his skin became raw. Then the five vanished in four streams of white light and one black one.

As they arrived Mikhail hissed again and started to convulse. Phoebe looked over at him and asked worriedly, "Mikhail, what is it? Mikhail? Mikhail!" Mikhail's skin turned a darker shade of red and blood started to leak from cracks in his skin. He yelled in pain as his essence flickered in and out of the material plane. Other Whitelighters glanced over in concern as he flickered one last time and vanished, leaving only an echo of his scream. Phoebe stared the spot where her boyfriend had so recently been standing.

"W-w-where did he go," she asked, on the verge of tears. Leo shook his head in consternation, He looked as fearful as the others as he said, "I don't know but the Elders do. I'll definitely ask them."

"Ask us what," an Elder asked from behind them. Prue whipped around and snapped, "Where the hell did Mikhail just go? That's what we want to know!" The Elder looked confused and replied, "We cannot allow a daemonic agent entrance to the Overworld, and Leo I'm surprised that you would even think of it! Why would you attempt to bring such murdering scum into our midst? You know it is forbidden!" Phoebe stepped forward to confront the Elder.

"Don't you dare talk about Mikhail that way," she yelled. "You had no problem with it before! Why now?" The Elder drew herself up as though offended and replied haughtily, "Because at the time we were still unsure of his allegiance. Now we know that he is an agent of the daemon Lord Aramane who is one of the new Triad. He is a menace to any around him." Now even Leo was glaring at the Elder and Phoebe was positively shaking with rage, her fists were clenched as tough she meant to strike the Elder. Prue stepped forward and placed a hand on her youngest sister trembling shoulder.

"Leo get us out of here," Piper said softly. "It was a mistake to come here." Leo nodded coldly and took Piper and Prue's hands and orbed all of them back to the manor. As soon as they had materialized in their living room Phoebe shrieked in rage and stormed upstairs. Prue and Piper glanced at each other before following their little sister. As they reached the landing that led to their bedrooms Prue and Piper expected Phoebe to turn towards her room, instead the furious witch kept right on going up. Piper grabbed Phoebe be the arm and spun her around.

"Phoebe," she said worriedly. "Where y'going?" Her younger sister's eyes flashed in anger as she slapped Piper's hand aside and stormed up stairs to the Book of Shadows. Prue narrowed her eyes called, "Phoebe!" The only response was the slamming of the attic door.

"Ooooooh," Prue growled and stormed up after her. As she tried the latch she heard the rustling of pages and an incantation she didn't recognize.

"Take me from where living dwell

Spare my love from plight and pain

Search among the fiery Hell

Find the daemon Aramane"

Prue blasted down the door and lunged into the room as Phoebe disappeared in a swirl of actinic red light. Prue screamed out, "No, Phoebe. NO!" Piper raced in as Prue yelled, just in time to see the last of her disappear. Prue yelled in helpless rage and sank to her knees. Piper froze and grabbed the door-frame for support, a tear running down her cheek. Leo swept in as Piper collapsed next to Prue.

"What happened," he gasped. Prue shook her head and murmured softly, "Phoebe's gone. She went after Aramane, she went into the Underworld."


End file.
